Could You Forgive Me For Never Saying I Love You?
by Eponine54
Summary: Suppose Mimi were to have died that night in the loft instead of coming back to life? Roger's thoughts and pain...


_Could You Forgive Me…For Never Saying "I love you"_

_By Cailin Humphrys_

**The Loft**

The drink seeped into the rough carpet on the floor of the bedroom, staining it with a color reminiscent of blood. I felt around the room for something to wipe it up with, and found…something. After a few minutes of wiping up the drink, I realized I had taken Mark's boxers and not a paper towel.

"No more red wine for Roger tonight." I muttered.

I sighed, and it was such a melancholy sound that I almost cried for what seemed like the millionth time that day. It didn't seem like I could possibly cry anymore though-the last two years had been filled with so many tears, that I couldn't even begin to recount all the reasons why. At this point in time though, the only reason for anything that filled my head was Mimi, and the fact that she was gone. She was one of the few good things that had ever happened to me, one of the shining rays in a world of black and white.

"It's all my fault…if I hadn't tried to leave, if I had only stuck around and helped her…she needed me and I abandoned her!" I cried aloud, before resting my head in my hands and letting the new tears drip into my palms.

It seemed like a lifetime ago that Mimi had ran out on me after Angel's funeral…well, not just me. Other people cared about her too-Joanne, Maureen, Mark, Collins…even Benny shed some tears at Mimi's funeral. I had met her parents there for the first time…there was so much sadness and love in their eyes for their only daughter.

**Mimi's Funeral  
**  
"Mr. and Mrs. Marquez-may I introduce to you Roger Davis, Mimi's boyfriend?" Mark said to the two shivering, huddled together parents standing closest to Mimi's grave.

I took my right hand out of my black suit pocket and shook their hands.

"I am so incredibly sorry about Mimi," I began, all the while thinking that it was such a feeble way to try to understand and commiserate with the loss of a child-I wasn't the only one who loved her.

"I know I never met either of you, but let me tell you now that I loved Mimi more than anything in my life. I hope you believe that." I said.

I stuffed my hands back in my pockets. I could see a sort of depressed happiness in Mrs. Marquez's eyes. In Mr. Marquez' eyes, there was a more haunted, wild, desperate expression, like an animal backed into a corner with nowhere to run.

Mrs. Marquez reached out, and touched my cheek, and said, "Roger…I remember hearing about you from Mimi. She must have been blessed by an angel to find such a caring young man as you."

Any composure I had been able to hold on to broke at that point. My face screwed up, trying to hold all the suffering in, and my hands clawed at the material inside my suit pockets, trying to keep it all inside, but it was to no avail.

"Mrs. Marquez- if she had been blessed by an angel, then she never would have met me…I…she…gone."

I felt choked, at a loss for air, and I turned and ran from the gravesite. I could hear Mark saying to the stunned pair,

"I'm sorry, he's taking this extremely hard...he hasn't slept, rarely eats…don't judge him harshly, he loved Mimi."

**The Loft**

That had hit me hard, that one thing Mimi's mother had ever said to me. We both loved Mimi so much, but were only meeting at her death. But, again...that seemed ages ago. It hurt so much to think about, that it was like physical pain-I literally felt like my heart was breaking. I don't think Mimi ever knew how much I loved her. I remember telling her right before she died that I loved her-but I don't know if she ever heard me. It was right after I had come back to New York, after I had found my song…but I hadn't found Mimi. I remember looking everywhere for her-in all the tent cities, in Maureen's old protest lot, in the alleyway behind the Life Café, in the Cat Scratch Club…I even lurked on some street corners late at night, the corners where I knew there were going to be junkies. I never found her though. That Christmas Eve-one year after Maureen's protest- Collins and Mark and I were all gathered in our loft, ready to spend yet another evening boozing, when Maureen and Joanne called up to the loft, yelling that they had found Mimi. I shuddered…remembering the night that Mimi died was like pouring a bucketful of ice down my back.

"I should have looked harder…made more inquiries." I murmured.

But it's too late now. From the second I gave up on our love, it was too late. It was that, plus me and my stupid jealousy. I knew, deep down, that Benny meant nothing to her. But I wanted to hate him, I wanted to hate her, just so I could keep bleeding from the outside in, and never have to have anyone notice, just so any left over feelings I had about April's death, any insecurities I had, any fears about the future- they could all get taken out on someone other than me. If I pretended those feelings didn't exist, if I let someone else take the brunt of it, wouldn't I be safe? It took me the death of a love bigger and stronger than April's for me to figure out that the answer to that, was no. When Maureen and Joanne brought Mimi upstairs, and I saw the condition she was in, I remember my heart leaping into my throat, and part of me knew right off that she wasn't going to make it.

**The Night Mimi Died**

"She was huddled in the park, in the dark. She was freezing, and begged to come here." Maureen told us, as she and Joanne dragged Mimi into the loft.

"Over here? Oh God." I murmured softly.

Mimi looked terrible-she was pale, she was shivering, and she was thin…so thin. Had she remembered how I had treated her that final day here, after Angel's funeral? Would she be all right? She had to be all right, then:

"Got a light…I know you! I'm shivering." I heard Mimi mutter, almost as if in a dream state.

Does she even know where she is, I wondered. I wanted to grab her and hold her in my arms, and never let her go, to tell her she was safe, that nothing would ever hurt her again and that I was sorry...just so sorry.

"She's been living on the streets." Joanne added.

I felt the room spin around me as Joanne gave me that bit of information. The streets of New York City? All this time? I had looked everywhere, I thought. Every single place I could think of that she might be, I went to, time and time again. Unless…unless she didn't want to be found, least of all by me.

"We need some heat," I said, finally finding my voice.

Was our illegal wood- burning stove still working? Did we even have any wood?

"I'm shivering." Mimi moaned softly.

"We can buy some wood, and something to eat," Mark suggested.

Collins looked at us gravely, and I again felt that sinking feeling.

"I'm afraid she needs more then heat," he said softly, as if he didn't want Mimi to hear and get scared.

He must not have been soft enough, because, weakly, Mimi's voice came from behind where Collins, Joanne and I were standing-

"I heard that," she whispered.

Maureen and Mark were sitting beside her, and Maureen was stroking her tangled, matted hair.

Looking at Collins, she said with forced calm in her voice, "Collins, go call for doctor, honey."

Collins rushed to phone and started to dial as Mimi tried to lift her head up. She didn't succeed, but managed to get out,

"Don't waste your money on me."

Suddenly, I wanted both to hold her and to shake her. Didn't she know how much we cared? We couldn't let her die like this! We had to do something, no matter how much it cost us! Mimi, I cried inside myself brokenly. Mimi, don't do this! We can live without food or heat for a few days, but I can't live without you for the rest of my life!

I heard Collins speak into the phone, "Hello?", and then he cried out, "I'm on hold!"

"Cold…cold…" Mimi murmured. "Would you light my candle?"

Christ, she was delirious! "Yes, we'll…oh God…find a candle!" I cried.

With the tears welling in my eyes now, I went to Mimi's side, and sat beside her. I picked up her hand, and shuddered as I felt its iciness penetrate through my own skin. Her hand...it seemed so small, so fragile. Mimi, I thought, you need this. You need someone here to hold your hand, to help you through the tough times. I can help you; I'm willing to try this time. I wanted to so badly before, but I was scared, hurt, and stupid. Please don't leave me…I need you in my life. I need you more than you'll ever know, and more than I could ever have admitted before. Maureen and Mark backed away a little, giving us as much privacy as was possible. My tears fell now, off my cheek and the bridge of my nose and onto Mimi's hand. I rubbed her hand in both of mine, trying to bring some warmth into them. They remained icy though. Suddenly, her hand tightened around mine, and I felt my heart skip a beat. She opened her eyes, and looked at me, and I was filled with warmth and love. I knew in that instant that anything that had happened before, any fights we had had, for every time I had stalked out of the loft in jealousy- I was forgiven.

In a choked voice, Mimi spoke. "I should tell you...I should tell you." she started.

"I should tell you…I should tell you…" I cut in, desperate for her to know that everything was going to be alright, but all the time thinking, don't give up, you're too close, it's too far...then she continued,

"I should tell you...Benny wasn't…any..."

She trailed off, and I put a finger on her lips.

"Shhh…I know." I whispered.

She was saying all the things that now, in the end, I had never really needed to hear-I already knew. It was me that had things that needed saying, me that had mistakes I had own up to...me that didn't deserve the angel that was sitting here next to me.

I said, "I should tell you why I left…it wasn't because...I didn't."

"I know."

Part of a weight was lifted, and I felt blessed. She had known all along! Suddenly, Mimi's breath was getting shallower, and her chest was rising more rapidly.

"I should tell you…" I tried again

With an enormous effort, Mimi turned her face towards me, and said, "I should tell you...I love you."

Then, with that last sentence, those three words that she was strong enough to utter without knowing the outcome, Mimi took her last breath and died. I was in shock…she couldn't be dead! No, someone, please, help her, don't let her fade! It's too cold, and she wants a candle! She needs heat and love and I can give it when I was scared to before and no…don't…

**The Loft**

I sat in this loft for hours bawling, just recalling that painful event. It hadn't mattered in the end that I had reached for my guitar and played her song…that I was praying that some unseen force could steer her back to life…that I had cried out, "I love you...Mimi!"

into the still air of the loft where only the others could hear it…where she couldn't hear it…where it wouldn't make a difference to say now. I said it, I sobbed it, I yelled it, I screamed in into her chest where I had lain my face when the final chords on the guitar had died away. Eventually, Mark and Collins pulled me off of Mimi and sat me down on the couch, and just sat with me, held me for hours, never minding the tears running down their faces. Maureen and Joanne sat on the floor at my feet, Joanne's face buried in Maureen's shoulder. Everyone was crying and miserable…but the only audible sobs came from me. I'm not sure even now if they were holding them back more so I could get mine out, maybe because none of them could ever fully feel the grief that night like I did. I know they felt pity, sadness, but none of them felt the sharp stabs of regret and loss that I did. Angel and Collins had told each other they loved each other before Angel died. Joanne and Maureen knew they were in love, no matter how much they fought-because no matter what, one of them always came back; no matter how anal Maureen thought Joanne was or no matter how many times Maureen cheated on Joanne. Mark knew that he had his quiet unspoken love for Maureen, even after all that time. Then there was me…I had lost April, and then Mimi came along. She made me feel alive again, made me care again…and then I lost her too. April died knowing I had loved her, because before we got AIDS, we were never afraid to say it. Mimi…I had never said it until it was too late, when she would never hear it. Now, as I sat there in that loft for what would turn into months of self-inflicted misery, I would always wonder, probably for the rest of my life-did she die without my hearing it? Or was she still conscious, on the edge of the abyss? Did she hear it, and die knowing that I had finally outgrew the past and was ready to move to the future, with her? Or did she die never hearing it, and if not-could she ever forgive me for never saying, "I love you"


End file.
